Picking Up The Pieces
by dublin writer
Summary: This is my version of what I felt might have happened next after Steve joined Connie on the steps of his apartment at the end of the Season Two episode The Victims that I began quite a while ago and just recently managed to finish. My muse came up with a rather unconventional and original story line and so I decided to share it. Disclaimer:SOSF belongs to Quinn Martin and not me!
1. Chapter 1

**Picking Up The Pieces**

Chapter 1

Steve slowly picked himself up from where he had fallen and stood shakily, leaning against the door frame to his small living room in disbelief as he grabbed a handkerchief quickly from his trouser pocket and held it to his forehead just above his left eye as the fabric quickly became blood soaked. Had it all really just happened? It felt almost like a bad dream that he still had to wake up from but the throbbing headache and still bleeding cut were all too real and horrifying. The evening had started out quite promising but had taken a violent turn quite unexpectedly. He saw the broken ornaments strewn across the floor of his living room, the cushions and books and various items upended and overturned. He still felt dazed and quite dizzy and nauseous and dared not even attempt to bend down and pick things up yet.

His hands were shaking violently and try as he did he couldn't seem to stop them. He looked down at them as the stinging started and gasped as he saw the blood now dripping from his left hand. He raised it quickly and saw the trailing cut across his palm and made his way unsteadily along the hall towards the compact kitchen area. He frowned as he noticed the blood trail he was leaving behind himself on the hall floor as he went. As he reached the kitchen door, he gasped as he saw the state it was in also. Plates and glasses had been smashed and were covering the floor as well as the two kitchen chairs, one of which he noticed was now missing a leg and he had to pick his way carefully among them to get to the sink. As he was still so unsteady on his feet, there were inevitable steps where he crunched ceramic and glass pieces into the floor. As he reached the sink he draped the afflicted hand across it and had to abandon his head wound temporarily in order to turn on the cold tap with the other, allowing it to flow over the open wound. The sink soon ran bright red and alarmed by the amount of it, he changed tactic, turned off the water and grabbed for a dish towel lying near by and wrapped the hand tightly with it instead. It hurt like hell and Steve wondered if perhaps there were still slivers embedded in the cut.

His stomach began to churn and he gagged violently as the shock of what had just happened seemed to sink in. Bile rose in his throat, burning and making him retch but thankfully he managed to swallow it back down and avoid the added discomfort of throwing up. His head spun and more blood trailed down his forehead and he held onto the small sink with his right hand for dear life, not wanting to collapse a second time and knowing that from where he now stood, there was not even a safe place to land without perhaps doing further damage to himself. He badly needed to lie down and so he abandoned the blood soaked handkerchief and grabbed the hand towel instead and dabbed at his forehead before pressing it to the cut on his head as he stumbled his way once more back across the kitchen and towards his bedroom across the hall. He needed to rest for a while until the dizziness eased and then he would start cleaning up the mess his apartment was in.

Reaching his bedroom door he sighed with relief as he noticed that his bedroom had been untouched, the only mess in there was the one he had left himself before heading to work that morning. Yesterday's clothes lay strewn across the chair in the corner and a neat pile of sunflower seed shells lay on the bedside locker. He made his way unsteadily towards the bed and allowed gravity to assist as he flopped face first down onto it. Keeping the hand towel under his forehead to protect his pillow he lay there breathing heavily for an unknown passage of time, his eyes closed and his heartache building until it hurt almost as much as the two gaping cuts he had sustained in the violent and unexpected attack. He was suddenly very grateful for the fact that he was alone so he didn't have to put up a front and pretend he was ok when on this occasion he clearly wasn't.

He must have drifted off again briefly as the next time he opened his eyes he saw midnight approaching on the clock by his bed. His head was hurting really badly, a headache firmly established and torturing him now but the painkillers were in the bathroom cabinet and the effort and movement involved in moving and going to fetch them was he felt a step too far and not worth the risk. He still felt very unsteady, queasy and shaky and it made more sense to him to remain where he was for now .

Then he groaned as he remembered that Mike would be there to pick him up at seven o'clock in the morning for work. He couldn't let Mike see the state his apartment was in or indeed the state he was in himself. His pride wouldn't allow it. How many times had Mike warned him about what he was getting himself into? Way too many ... and as usual he had been right. Why hadn't he listened? Why was he always so trusting of people of the female persuasion? Shouldn't he have learned valuable lessons by now? All those questions taunted him as he lay miserably still, trying to avoid unnecessary movement that would cause his headache to worsen. There was no choice. He had to ring Mike and make an excuse as to why he wasn't going in to work tomorrow.

Reaching out, he grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear keeping his forehead pressed into the hand towel just in case. Dialing the all too familiar number he heard Mike's not so dulcet tones, angrily protesting the late night, intrusive phone call.

"STONE?"

Steve took a deep steadying breath, knowing that Mike could pick up on angst and hurt in a voice even over a phone line, so he spoke as steadily as he could manage.

"Yeah, ah Mike? It's Steve ..."

"Steve? What are you ringing for at this hour? Is something wrong?"

Steve cursed the fact that Mike's trouble radar seemed to have already been activated and decided that trying to pretend nothing was wrong wasn't going to work this time so he changed tactic slightly.

"Listen Mike ... It's nothing to be concerned about but ... I have a really bad headache and ... I don't think I'm going to be able to go to work tomorrow."

"Headache? What? ... One of your migraines?"

Steve swallowed hard at the impending lie.

"Ah yeah ... Feels like it ... Look I ... just need a day to rest and I'll see you in the office the day after tomorrow, alright?"

There was a delayed response on the other end of the phone and Steve feared that Mike wasn't buying his excuse.

"... Steve? Is ... Connie still there with you?"

 _Why did he have to mention her name?_ The hurt was literally still too raw and his lips were refusing to answer. He had to practically force the words out

"Ah ... no Mike ... She ... ah she ... left a while ago ... "

"Steve? You don't sound too good. Do you want me to come over?"

"NO! ..."

 _Damn it! That had come out too forcefully. He hadn't meant it to but blind panic had been to blame. Pull it together Steve ... You're blowing it ..._ he found himself thinking.

"Ah no ... No, there's no need Mike. Honest. I'll be ok. I just need to sleep for a bit. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah ... positive."

"Ok, take it easy so ... If you need me, you know just to call me right?"

"Yeah ... I ah ... I know that. Thanks Mike ... Goodnight ..."

"Goodnight Steve ..."

Steve hung up and fisted the bed with his good hand.

 _Damn it! ... That was pathetic._ He had managed to sound as bad as he had felt and he could sense even over the phone that he had aroused Mike's suspicions. While he wasn't a hundred percent sure he was almost certain that he would be in for a visit from Mike. He just hoped that it would be in the morning after he had had a chance to clean himself and the place up a bit and not anytime soon. With that thought worrying him he buried his head back down into his pillow and allowed the exhaustion and wooziness to take over and allow him to rest.

 **Back at De Haro Street :**

Mike hung up the phone and sat up in bed. Steve had sounded strange. He had rang him once before suffering from a bad migraine just like that but he had sounded different this time. There was a distinct shake to the young man's voice that reminded him of the tremble he often heard and had become accustomed to when interviewing eyewitnesses of a violent crime. A mix of shock and disbelief normally caused it and it had definitely been in Steve's voice just then. He felt uneasy as a bad feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. The boy was hiding something. He could always tell. And why had Connie left? What girlfriend leaves their man alone and helpless when he's sick and suffering? There were too many unanswered questions and as Mike sat there feeling suddenly wide awake, he knew he had to follow up on his gut instincts and go check on his sickly partner.

Hopping out of bed he dressed quickly and headed out into the night air to drive the short distance to Union Street, making sure he had the spare set of keys to Steve's apartment that the young man had given him a couple of months back safely tucked in his coat pocket just in case Steve was too ill to answer the door.

 **Union Street 12.30am**

Steve lay motionless on his bed trying to make his sore and tired brain figure out what exactly had gone wrong. The argument had been memorably one-sided and had started to blur in his mind from the blow he had taken to his head. He had never seen that side of her before. Sure she was fiery at the best of times. Opinionated definitely and he had even admitted to her face that she could at times be what he affectionately called the "Queen of the Crazies" but that was what had drawn him to her initially if he was being honest with himself. There was a certain danger about her, an unpredictability that fascinated him. She wasn't like the others and stood out from the rest but her unprovoked attack and violent and destructive reaction this evening had come right out of left field. He hadn't seen it coming. Maybe in hindsight ... he should have?

Guilt and regret mingled with all the other emotions that were vying for control of his thoughts as he lay there in the darkened room wishing above all else that he had just attended the robbery with Mike earlier instead of going to meet Connie on the steps of his apartment where she had been waiting for him. He had thought that she had been there for a reunion, to apologize for how she had been treating him since the last case had begun and he had been only too willing at the time to take half the blame for what had happened. He had taken the bottle of wine from the fridge like Mike had told him to and then frowned as he remembered that most of its contents and glass fragments were now currently staining his living room wall. How could he have read her so wrong? He had really cared about her but now he just felt numb ... Numb and shocked ... and betrayed. And tired ... God he was so tired. He felt himself drifting once more into a painless oblivion, one where he could feel ok again even if it was just for a short amount of time.

Mike arrived at Steve's apartment in record time thanks to the light traffic the early hour of the morning afforded. He pulled in behind Steve's Porsche and got out and headed for the steps to his apartment but something caught his eye under the streetlight and made him stop and let out a low whistle. Bending down he studied the long line that was now carved along the side of his beloved Porsche. It looked like it had been only recently done and Mike wondered if it had been the cause of the young man's migraine. That would definitely have caused the shock in his voice as Mike knew how much he treasured his beloved car above most things. Frowning at the deep gouge in the metalwork he shook his head in disgust as he then turned and quickly headed up to Steve's apartment. There was a faint glow coming from the living room window and so Mike wondered if Steve was still up. He knocked faintly not wanting to alarm or worsen the young man's headache any more than it already was. When no answer came he leaned over to look in the living room window and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the destruction clearly visible inside. Without further delay he fumbled for the bunch of keys in his pocket and opened Steve's front door and raced inside.

The first disturbing sight that met his eyes was the small pool of blood on the floor by the living room door and a equally disturbing trail of red droplets leading off towards the small kitchen at the back. His breathing now quickening, Mike felt his chest constrict with panic.

"STEVE? ..." he yelled, no longer concerned about worsening his partner's headache in his need to find the young man merely alive and alright.

Passing the living room doorway he gasped as he saw the place thrashed and then raced down the hallway to peer through into the kitchen to find the scene equally unbearable. Racing across to the bedroom, he pushed that door open and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark. As they did, he saw Steve's form face down on the bed and almost froze from the worry that struck him in that instant. He shook himself and raced forward to kneel on the side of the bed above his partner to check him for a pulse. Placing two fingers on the side of his neck, he almost cried with relief as he found it soft and steady. Reaching across he switched on the bedside lamp in order to study Steve's motionless form more closely. As the light came on, the first thing he noticed was the blood streaked towel beneath Steve's head and the equally blood soaked fabric wrapped around his left hand and his heart skipped a beat. Mike's heart then started to race as he looked for visible wounds to explain the blood loss and turning the young man's head slightly to the left away from the towel, he saw the distinct purple swelling on his forehead adorned with a nasty, still oozing, two inch cut. The fact that Steve never even budged during his examination made him worry all the more and he knew he had to check his level of consciousness. He gently shook Steve to try and rouse him.

"Steve? STEVE? Answer me Buddy boy? Come on now ..."

Steve took longer than Mike would have liked to fully rouse and then started slightly as he felt someone kneeling over him with their hand pressed against his back. He panicked for a few fog filled minutes as he struggled against the hand that held him pinned to the bed before he heard Mike's familiar voice respond although it was laced with a mix of concern, anger and a need for answers.

"Hey, hey easy now. It's Mike, Steve. Lie still now ... You're hurt ... I KNEW there was something wrong! What the hell happened? Why did you lie to me on the phone? STEVE? Who did this to you?"

His initial relief that it was only Mike soon waned as he realized that Mike had now seen his apartment and his injuries firsthand. There was no escaping the embarrassing and emotionally painful truth now. Mike's panic filled and constant flow of questions only served to make him feel even more woozy and uneasy.

"I'm ... ok Mike ... It's alright ... " he stammered, his voice betraying the lie that was struggling to sound convincing.

"The HELL you are ..." Mike roared, annoyed by the young man's automatic response to every time he had ever been hurt and his obvious reluctance to provide the answers he needed. _Why did the boy always have to be so damned stubborn?_ he thought as he reached for the phone to ring for help. Steve saw him grab for the receiver and intercepted Mike's hand, blocking his access to the phone.

"MIKE ... what are you doing?" Steve spoke groggily trying to shake his head to clear the ever growing fog that was trying its best to make him sound incoherent..

"I'm calling for help. What do you think? You've been attacked Steve and your place is thrashed. We need the Lab boys over here and paramedics ... Why in God's name did you try to smokescreen me? "

Steve pushed himself up on this right elbow, the bloodied hand now left to press the towel onto his head wound as he pleaded for calm.

"NO! We don't Mike ... Everything's ok ... I'll ... be ok and there's no need to call anybody ... Nothing happened ..."

Mike looked incredulously at the young man and spoke in disbelief.

"STEVE? You must have gotten one hell of a knock to your head ... Your head and hand are bleeding and your apartment is upside down and smashed up and you're telling me everything's alright?"

"No ... I'm TELLING you there's no need to call anyone ..."

Mike eyed up Steve even more curiously. _Was he that confused from the head wound and not thinking clearly or was he making some sort of sense that he just wasn't understanding?_ As a grim thought drifted into his head that Mike didn't really buy into, he decided that he had better ask, to get it out of the way so he questioned in a sombre and incredulous tone.

"STEVE? Are you telling me you thrashed your own apartment?"

Steve looked affronted and answered immediately.

"MIKE! NO of course not ... But ... but ..."

Steve's head swam again and a wave of nausea accompanied it. He wasn't ready for Mike's arrival yet. For all these questions he knew Mike would demand answers to. He couldn't think straight. He needed to explain but he didn't know how to. His head was hurting too much. He just wanted to sleep and rest and be left alone in his current misery to recover his senses a bit, but he knew with Mike now present that was not going to be an option.

Mike saw the internal struggle going on with Steve. He was visibly struggling to think straight and there was a tell tale glaze in his eyes that Mike knew only meant one thing. A definite concussion. How bad a one was the only remaining question and even without a medical degree Mike felt the nasty looking cut on his partner's head would most definitely need stitches. First and foremost his priority had to be to get medical help for his partner but he knew that convincing the young man of that fact in his current state was going to prove difficult. As he watched Steve struggling to form his next words Mike had a few disturbing thoughts of his own.

 _"Why was Steve not telling him what had happened or what or who had caused his injuries? ... He had blatantly lied to Mike even knowing that he was bleeding and hurt badly. He had to be ... protecting someone ...Yes, that had to be it! ... It was very rare that Steve would lie to him but loyalty however misplaced was a big issue with Steve and it could have caused his little white lie. But who was he being loyal and protective towards? The only person who he knew had been with Steve this last evening had been ... CONNIE! Surely not? But ... well he wouldn't put it past her. She was volatile at the best of times and he had warned Steve on more than one occasion to watch his back where she was concerned. Yes ... If she was the culprit that would explain a lot ... Wounded pride and misplaced loyalty. Two valid motives for deceit right there._

But first he needed to assess Steve's injuries and stop the bleeding from his cuts and then he would cajole the information out of the young man somehow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Picking Up The Pieces**

Chapter 2

Steve was getting more uneasy and distressed by the second. His eyes were closed now and he had slumped back sideways down onto the bed, feeling unable to stay propped up on his elbow for too long. He muttered under his breath as another bad wave of nausea washed over him and he struggled to keep it under control.

"Mike ... Please ... Stop with the questions ... Will ya? We're NOT calling anyone. There's no need."

Mike frowned again at his partner's frustrating stubborn streak but he didn't look good and right now Mike felt that he had to change tactic and humor the young man in order to get him to see sense. Speaking in a lower and more coaxing tone he responded.

"Alright, alright now. Calm down Buddy boy. Will you at least let me get a proper look at your head and hand and see if I can stop the bleeding, huh? Come on? ... Humor me, will you?"

Steve cracked open one eye and waited a few seconds for his blurry vision to clear before studying Mike curiously. He was giving up way too easily. Mike was definitely up to something but he felt too sick and sore to try and figure out what . For now he was just grateful that Mike was letting the matter drop for the moment and maybe if Mike could stop the bleeding, he wouldn't feel as lightheaded and woozy so he nodded very carefully.

"Ok Mike ..."

"Good ... Can you roll over onto your back for me? "

Steve seemed to take several seconds to process the instruction and then carry it out, the sore hand not helping the exercise any, but he finally managed it with Mike's help.

Mike took hold of Steve's left hand and started to carefully and gently unwrap the makeshift bandage. The blood had partially dried into the dish towel and Steve winced and groaned in short, pained bursts as Mike pried the fabric as gently as he could away from the cut. As he did, it began to ooze blood again and Mike pressed the bloodied dish towel against it again to stem the flow but from the quick glimpse he had seen, he felt that stitches were going to be required in his hand also. Frowning now in anger and disgust at the wounds that had been visibly inflicted on his stubborn partner by an as yet unconfirmed assailant, Mike spoke more softly as he tended to the gaping wound.

"This looks nasty Steve. You're going to need stitches in that and probably on that head wound too. Will you at least tell me what caused the cuts? Was it ... a knife?" Mike asked tentatively, swallowing hard at the mere thought that that could have been the offending weapon.

Steve shook his head gingerly and spoke in a pained whisper.

"No ... It wasn't a knife ... "

"Steve? Will you come down to Franklin with me? If you're not going to tell me what happened then at least let's get you seen to, huh?"

"NO ... I'm NOT going to the Hospital, Mike. I'll be FINE ... I just need to rest for a bit."

Mike's patience was wearing thin but he knew losing his temper would only make Steve clam up even more. Deciding on a different tactic, Mike ventured tentatively once more.

"Ok, ok no Hospital ... But whether you like it or not, you NEED medical attention. More than I can give you. Will you let me call Bob Patterson? He can come right here to the apartment and you won't have to go anywhere. You've met my Doctor before, haven't you? You can trust him to be discreet and he'll be able to stitch these cuts for you too. What do you say? Will you let me call him?"

Steve's head and hand throbbed mercilessly and his stomach was churning up a storm. Mike wasn't going to let up and of all the embarrassing and alternative things Mike had suggested prior to this, his latest suggestion didn't seem so bad. Steve was going to have to cut his losses and agree to the lesser of three evils. Nodding gingerly, Steve surrendered reluctantly.

"Ok, ok you can call him ... But NO-ONE else Mike ... I mean it ... You have to promise me ... No-one else, ok?"

Mike heard the heartfelt plea and patted Steve's arm sympathetically.

"Ok ... Ok, I promise. Just Patterson ... Here hold the dish towel down on this will you and don't move, ok? I'll be right back ... "

Again Steve merely nodded shakily as he pressed down on the hand as he was told to and watched as Mike left the bedroom in a hurry. While he did trust Mike to keep his word, he was also keenly aware of Mike's abhorrence for injustice and his unwavering need to right all wrongs and he worried that Mike wouldn't understand his desire to keep what had happened earlier that evening just between themselves. He was also worried that Mike had chosen to use the phone out in the hall to make his phone call on and not the one on the bedside locker right beside them. He heard Mike moving outside in the hallway and heard Mike pick up the phone from where it had been knocked on the floor during the earlier incident. He listened nervously as he heard Mike speak in a low voice into the receiver and he didn't relax until he definitely heard Mike use the name Bob in his initial greeting. As he tried to strain his ears to hear more of what followed in Mike's conversation, another harrowing wave of nausea washed over him and although he tried to fight it off, he knew immediately that it was a battle he was destined to lose. Struggling to his feet and staggering as he tried to head towards the door to his small bathroom, he just barely made it in time as he hunched over the toilet bowl and lost the meager contents of his stomach violently.

Having just hung up the phone, Mike heard the violent retching sounds and ran to the bathroom in time to see Steve throwing up. He was gripping the bowl with both hands, the knuckles white and the left one leaving a dripping, bloodied trail down the white ceramic. Racing forward, Mike held him from behind and supported him as the daunting episode continued until the awful heaving finally subsided, leaving Steve shaking violently in the aftermath. Steve slumped back against Mike weakly and closed his eyes. The vomiting had used up whatever scant energy reserves he had left and he just wanted to be left alone to wallow in his own misery. Sensing Steve's weakness, Mike decided to use the current situation to his advantage, feeling that maybe if he played it just right, he might be able to draw out some more information from Steve without too much protest now that he was at a low point but first he had to get him off the cold, tiled floor and back into bed while they waited for Dr. Patterson to arrive.

"Steve? Are you done? Only I think we should try to get you back on the bed before you catch cold on this floor. You're already shaking pretty bad ... "

A low croaky response followed much to Mike's increasing alarm.

"Yeah ... I think so ..."

"Ok, put your arm around my shoulders and we'll try and lift you up that way, ok?"

Steve didn't have the energy to even nod this time as he flailed his right hand across Mike's shoulders obediently and struggled back up on his feet with Mike's help. He knew he was too heavy for Mike so he valiantly tried to support himself as best he could as they stumbled forward but by the time they reached the bed, despite his best intentions he knew Mike was taking more of the strain as he heard Mike's labored breathing as he finally, gratefully felt the soft mattress beneath him as he lay back down. Mike lifted his legs and swung them up onto the bed before breathing heavily for several seconds from the exertion. Feeling guilty about causing Mike undue strain, Steve mumbled apologetically.

"I'm sorry Mike ... I guess I wasn't much help, huh? "

Mike smiled and reassured his young partner.

"That's ok ... But I am worried about you. From the looks of it you took a fairly hard hit to the head and you have all the symptoms of a nasty concussion and if I'm not sorely mistaken I think you're also suffering from shock Steve. Your skin is cool and clammy and you're shaking pretty bad. Are you feeling cold?"

Steve nodded and shivered.

Grabbing the comforter from the end of the bed, Mike pulled it up over Steve and then spoke again.

"Where do you keep your first aid kit?"

"In the kitchen ... Under the sink ..."

"Ok, lie still and I'll get it ... And Steve, please try not to move this time ..."

"Ok ..."

The weak sounding reply only worried Mike all the more as he made his way out to the hall and across into the kitchen. He shook his head in disgust again as he picked his way over the broken tableware and items strewn on the floor and swallowed hard as he saw the crimson blood stains adorning the sink and the surrounding floor as he pulled open the bottom press door and found the first aid kit inside. Returning to Steve, he started applying quick dressings to the cut on his head and his hand while they waited patiently for the Doctor's arrival. Steve was very quiet during the first aid ministrations. Much too quiet. Mike remained silent too, allowing Steve to calm down and relax but as he applied the final piece of tape, he spoke softly.

"Steve? ... It was Connie, wasn't it? Who ah ... did this to you?"

Steve's eyes that had stared at the far wall blankly and sadly minutes earlier, turned to stare intensely at Mike as the older man's question sunk in and burned annoyingly in his gut. He could deny it but what was the point? Mike was a smart guy. He had already read the scene and he knew Connie had been with him all evening and he didn't want to lie to Mike of all people. The truth had to come out no matter how painful it was. He merely nodded dolefully and watched anxiously for Mike's reaction.

Mike remained calm despite the startling confirmation and knowing how hard it had been for Steve to admit in the first place he rewarded the younger man with a faint smile as he then asked cautiously.

"WHY Steve? ... What happened?"

He watched as several different emotions seemed to flicker across Steve's face at the same time and then he watched Steve's bottom lip quiver slightly as he started to speak slowly in a low and shocked sounding voice.

"I don't know ... I REALLY don't know Mike ... Everything was going fine. She apologized for how she'd behaved and everything was ok. I took out the wine just like you told me to and I ordered pizza. We talked and we laughed and everything was ... just like always ..."

Steve stopped talking as he struggled to remember the rest of the evening which was rapidly becoming more blurry with every hazy attempt at recollection. Mike noticed how upset he was getting and reached out a gentle hand and placed it on his partner's arm.

"What happened then Steve?"

"I ah ... I said something ... I can't even remember what I said ... We were just kidding around and then ... then she ... she just went nuts Mike ..."

Mike frowned more out of concern at the disturbing turn of events than anything else as he watched Steve struggle to relate what had happened and so he prodded again carefully.

"What do you mean Steve? What EXACTLY did she do?"

"She started yelling at me ... Accusing me of things ... Horrible things Mike ...She said that I was cold and ... and heartless and then she started dragging everything up again about the case and how cruel and insensitive I was ..."

Mike could hear the upset now clearly in Steve's words and felt his anger at Connie increase. _How dare she accuse him of such things! There wasn't a cruel or heartless streak in Steve's body._ Ignoring his own annoyed reaction for now, he encouraged Steve once more to continue.

"What did you say back to her? I hope you defended yourself against those accusations."

"I didn't get a chance to say anything ... I couldn't get a word in edge wise. She just kept yelling and screaming at me and then she started to storm out. I went after her to try and stop her from leaving. I asked her to calm down. I told her we could talk about things calmly, you know? I grabbed her arm and then ... then she ... "

"She what Steve?"

"She hit me ... I didn't even see it coming Mike."

"What did she hit you with?"

"The vase ... You know the one I had on the hall table?"

"The tall one? She hit you with THAT?"

Steve nodded grimly.

"Yeah ... It happened so fast ... I couldn't believe she'd actually done it."

"What happened then?"

"Everything after that is a little blurry, Mike. I fell to the floor and ... everything started to fade out ... I must have blacked out for a while because when I came to, I could hear her in the living room smashing things and still yelling ... I tried to tell her to stop but my voice wouldn't work ... So I tried to get up and she must have seen me moving because she started hurling abuse at me again and then as I looked up she threw something at me ... I don't even know what it was but I instinctively put up my hand to stop it hitting me and ... and ..."

Steve stared blankly down at his left hand as if he was remembering exactly the moment the injury had occurred.

"... And that's when your hand got cut ..."

"Yeah ... "

"What did she do then?"

"She stepped over me and headed for the kitchen ... I heard her smashing things again and then a couple of minutes later she stormed past me, went out the front door and said ... It was all I deserved and ... then she went out and ... slammed it behind her."

"Left? What? She just left you bleeding on the floor?"

"Yeah ... I think I must have passed out again because when I woke up the next time it was darker than before."

"Dear God Steve ... That's quite a story ... Steve? I know you don't want to hear this but she physically assaulted you and she thrashed your place ... You have to consider ..."

"NO! Absolutely not Mike ..."

"Steve, just wait and hear me out. "

"NO! ... I know what you're going to suggest Mike but I'm NOT pressing charges. I ... I just want to put the whole unpleasant episode behind me, that's all. "

"STEVE! ... She could have KILLED you. It's a miracle that she DIDN'T, hitting you with that hard vase. You CAN'T let her get away with this Steve."

"I'm NOT pressing charges MIKE ..."

"And what about Connie? What if she crawls back here and bats those long eyelashes at you and begs for forgiveness, huh? Are you going to take her back and risk this all happening again? Well? ARE YOU?"

"No ... No we're through ... I never want to see her again ... But that's it Mike ... I'm not doing anything else about it ..."

"Steve? For heaven's sake listen to reason will you? Besides ... you're in no fit state to make a decision as important as this right now anyway. Rest now ok and we'll talk more about it later."

"No Mike ... I'm not gonna change my mind ... What's done is done. I just wanna forget it."

"How can you possibly, in all conscience let her get away with THIS Buddy boy? She's just wrecked your apartment and almost killed you."

"Because I had FEELINGS for her Mike, ALRIGHT? I mean I REALLY cared about her. I can't just forget that ... Even after all this ..."

Reaching out once more for one last ditch attempt at reason, Mike spoke plainly.

"Steve, anyone who is capable of what Connie did to you this evening is mentally unstable at best and even if the boyfriend/lover side of you can't see that then the cop side of you SHOULD still be able to."

Steve hung his head as the pain throbbed through his skull and even more painfully through his heart at Mike's wise words. _Of course he saw it. But why hadn't he before? Was love really THAT blind? He knew she had a dangerous, unpredictable streak to her but wasn't that what he'd been attracted to? Then surely he'd ASKED for trouble? He'd brought it on himself ... What good would come of dredging the whole thing through a court of law? What about the embarrassment? The looks from his fellow officers? The shame? The endless and drawn out added heartache that he didn't want to have to go through? Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't he been punished enough already for falling in love with the wrong person? He saw no good in making it any worse._

Looking back up at Mike, he shook his head.

'I don't wanna talk about this anymore. I've MADE my decision. I'm NOT gonna change it ... "

Steve looked away as he saw the visible disappointment in Mike's eyes and found himself unable to witness it. Before Mike had a chance to say anything else, a loud knock came from the front door. Steve visibly jumped and stared towards the bedroom door in alarm. Mike patted his arm reassuringly.

"That's probably Bob ... Relax ... I'll get it ..."

Steve watched as Mike headed out to answer the door and couldn't resist shouting after him.

"MIKE? Check out the living room window first, will ya? Just ... to be sure, ok?"

"Sure ... Ok ... Don't worry ... Relax Steve." Mike instructed firmly, worried by the current fragile state of his normally cool and composed partner as he headed to see who was at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Picking Up The Pieces**

Chapter 3

Mike headed for the door but then hesitated as Steve's nervousness started to rub off on him. Heading into the living room he peeked out the side window and saw Bob Patterson standing on the top step and cursed his momentary foolishness. Rushing back out into the hall, he opened the door and let Bob in, explaining the situation confidentially as he guided Bob down the hall towards Steve's bedroom, past the horrifying bloodstains in various places along the hall floor.

An hour later, Mike opened the bedroom door from the inside and after Bob had exited, he followed him back outside, casting one more glance back in at the still form of his now sleeping partner in the darkened room before quietly closing the door over behind him.

"Well? What do you think Bob?"

"Well ... I wish he'd let us take him to get that head of his x-rayed just to be on the safe side but seeing as he's adamant about it, I think he'll be ok. He was still fairly lucid and his pupil reactions weren't as off as they could have been. At a guess and without any further Hospital tests to help my diagnosis, I'd figure it to be a mild to a moderate concussion. He needs to rest and take it easy. I'll leave you some pain meds and a prescription for antibiotics for those wounds. His head took six stitches and his hand took ten. Better to start on some antibiotics just to be on the safe side to try and ward off infection but I'd recommend him being watched very closely for the next twenty four hours at least. If he disimproves, his headaches get worse or the vomiting starts up again, I'd get him down to Franklin ASAP."

"Ok, thanks Bob ... I really appreciate you coming out so late ... I'd ah ... offer you some coffee but I'm not sure if there are any cups left unbroken in there."

Bob Patterson stared into the small kitchen at the wanton destruction and whistled.

"That's some mess ... Did she do all that as well?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so and that's just the half of it ... The living room is every bit as bad ..."

"He won't press charges?"

"No ... I'm afraid he's as adamant about that as he is about going to get seen at the Hospital. I wanted to get the boys down to even photograph it you know? Just even to have a record of what happened but he wouldn't hear of it ... I hate to say it but at times he's even more stubborn than me!"

"It's a tough one Mike ... You can't force him to press charges but from his wounds alone, he's lucky you were ringing me and not your friend Bernie down town."

Mike swallowed hard at that statement.

"So I was right. It could have been a lot worse?"

"Well if she'd hit him even a small bit harder or if she'd hit the back of his head then who knows? ... But yes, it could have been a lot worse. For now what I gave him should help him sleep for a little while but keep a close eye on him. Well, I had better get going. Good luck Mike."

Mike followed Bob Patterson back down the Hall to the front door and watched as his old friend opened it.

"Thanks for coming over Bob and taking care of him for me. I really appreciate it. I didn't know who else to call."

"Anytime Mike ... You know, he didn't want you to get the lab team down to photograph the mess she caused but there's nothing stopping YOU from photographing it. Just a thought."

Mike grinned broadly.

"You know you may just have a point. I HADN'T thought of that. Thanks Bob. I think I'll do just that. Good night and all the best."

"Goodnight Mike and remember where Steve is concerned ... If in doubt ..."

" ... ship him out. I know. Don't worry ... If he gets any worse, I'll call an ambulance whether he likes it or not. Take care."

Mike watched Bob head down the outside steps and waved as the Doctor got into his car and drove off. The night air was cool and Mike took several deep breaths of it to clear his head. Something told him that it was going to be a long night. Closing the door and heading back inside, Mike remembered that Steve had a camera somewhere in his bedroom and as that room hadn't been touched by Connie, then hopefully the camera would be ok too. He just had to hope there would be a film canister in it, that is IF he could even find it.

He knew where Steve kept a torch in case of a power cut so he found that handily enough just inside the bedroom door. Switching it on he started to look around quietly with it for Steve's camera. He disliked searching through Steve's things but he felt it was necessary under the circumstances. Luckily for Mike, luck was on his side as he opened the wardrobe and saw the camera immediately up on the top shelf. Taking it down, he noticed that it had a film in that was only half used. Yes! His luck was definitely in. He turned off the torch and stood perfectly still as Steve fidgeted momentarily over on the bed, groaning and mumbling incoherently in his drug induced sleep. He waited until Steve had settled and quietened again and then he moved quietly across to the door and exited, shutting the door silently behind him. He had a lot of work to do.

Mike photographed everything that had been destroyed in the small apartment and felt better about things having accumulated evidence in case he managed to persuade Steve to use it. It was almost two am when he finished and having found to his relief one kitchen press untouched, he managed to find some unbroken mugs and made himself some coffee to keep himself awake. Then he decided to use his time wisely to start to clean up the mess and so he got the dustpan and brush out and started to clear away the broken fragments of the vase from the hall floor. He was halfway through, down on his hands and knees when he heard the bedroom door handle rattle behind him and he looked around quickly in time to see a rather drowsy and dazed looking Steve emerge from the darkened room, leaning noticeably heavily against the door frame.

"STEVE? What are you doing out of bed? The Doc said you had to rest."

The bright light in the hall seemed to blind the young man temporarily at first as he watched Steve cover his eyes with his good hand and heard him mumble almost incoherently.

"I ... I heard noises ... What ... what are you doing on the floor Mike?"

"Oh I'm sorry ... You probably just heard me ... I was just starting to try and clean up a bit. Go back to bed will you ... before you fall over ..."

Steve ignored the instruction though and stumbled forward precariously, holding the side wall as if for dear life and using it to keep himself upright. He reached down and tapped Mike's back lightly before mumbling again.

"No, no, don't do that Mike ... You don't have to clean that up ... I'll ... I'll do it tomorrow ... Just ... just leave it, ok?"

"Steve, please? Don't worry about it ... Just go back to bed. You shouldn't be trying to walk around ... The Doc gave you something to help you sleep. It's not safe to try and be up and about."

Steve stubbornly didn't seem to hear the second instruction either or else he was blatantly ignoring the unwanted directive as he continued to stumble further along the hall towards the living room, his feet flailing in an awkward fashion as he walked, criss-crossing instead of one in front of the other like they were supposed to.

Mike scrambled back up to his feet in a hurry as he watched Steve wobble slightly when he hit the doorway to the living room, afraid that the young man would pitch forward at any second. He came behind him and grabbed his waist, steadying him as he spoke again more firmly, watching Steve closely as he did.

"Steve? Are you listening to me? You SHOULDN'T be out of bed ..."

Steve blinked several times and then slurred his words worryingly.

"Don't fuss Mike ... I'm alright ... I don't WANT to stay in bed ... Got ... got too much to do ... Just look at this mess ..."

By the glazed look in Steve's eyes, he was definitely still under the influence of whatever pain meds Bob had given him but they were also making him even more stubborn than usual. He felt Steve weaken and wobble again from the grip he had on him and so he decided on plan B, knowing full well that if the young man collapsed he would be unable to carry him back to his bed without help.

"Ok, ok ... Well at least sit down on the couch before you fall down if you're not going to go back to bed. I made some coffee a while ago and I found some unbroken mugs. Do you want some?"

"What?"

"Coffee Steve? Would you LIKE some?"

"Yeah ... Yeah that ... that would be nice ..."

"Ok, then just sit down and I'll get you some."

Mike kept a firm, steadying grip on Steve's upper arm as he used his other hand to clear a portion of the couch for the young man to sit down on and then he watched Steve slump heavily down onto it and heard him groan from the sudden drop.

"Easy Steve ... Just DON'T move a muscle, got it? Are you going to stay there for me?"

Steve merely nodded and leaned his sore head back against the back of the couch wearily as Mike hesitated about leaving him and waited a few seconds until Steve quietened, before hurrying off to fetch the cup of coffee he had promised him. When he returned with the cup, Steve's eyes were closed and Mike wasn't sure if he was back asleep or not.

"Steve? ... Steve are you still awake?"

Steve's head sprung up at the sound of Mike's voice, answering his question in action rather than words and Mike had to practically place the cup physically in his hands as he accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks Mike ... "

"Ok, drink up ... Then we'll get you back to bed, ok?"

Steve took a mouthful of coffee and sighed with the small amount of comfort and warmth it provided. Staring at the baseball adorned mug now in his hand and seeming to try and focus better on it, he spoke in a low, slightly slurred whisper.

"At least she didn't break THIS mug. "

Mike sat down on the arm of the couch right beside Steve, not liking how flaky he appeared to be and deciding as a result to stay very close at hand just in case.

"Why? Is that one special?"

"Yeah ... Don't you remember it?"

Mike hadn't really looked at it too closely in his hurry to get back to Steve but leaning closer now and seeing it, he smiled as the memory came back to him.

"Is that the one I bought you when I took you to Candlestick Park for the first time after we became partners?"

Steve smiled as Mike remembered.

"Yeah ... I don't use it everyday so it won't get broken ... I guess maybe it's just as well now otherwise it would have got smashed too, huh?"

"Yeah ... "

Steve took another few mouthfuls of coffee and then looked around the living room again and a certain amount of sadness seemed to seep into Steve's demeanor again as a result. The cup in his hand started to shake and noticing with concern, Mike steadied it in his hand and spoke purposefully.

"Do you want me to put that down for you?"

Steve nodded gratefully as Mike took the cup and placed it on the floor against the skirting board, out of harm's way for now. As he got back up, he noticed Steve suddenly becoming distressed. He followed Steve's gaze to the mantelpiece as he heard the young man mutter alarmingly under his breath.

"Oh no ... No, please no ..."

"Steve? What's the matter?"

Steve suddenly pitched himself sideways across the couch to Mike's surprise as he seemed to scan the floor in a panicked fashion, obviously searching for something. Mike jumped up and raced forward, careful of where he stepped with the floor covered in strewn items until he was staring down at Steve with concern.

"Steve? What is it? What are you looking for?"

Steve didn't answer but instead continued to push things aside urgently before his fingers lightly touched on a particular broken item that he then picked up reverently and Mike could see his chest rise and fall faster as he stared at it.

"Aw Man ... " he muttered in a distraught voice as he held it.

Getting down on his haunches, Mike studied the piece in Steve's hand. It appeared to be the lower part of a broken ornament. A figure of some kind and Mike felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watched the upset that its broken form seemed to evoke in his young partner. Placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder, afraid to ask the question but knowing he had to, he asked tentatively.

"What is it, Steve? Was ... that something important to you?"

"It ... It was Harry's ... It was one of the ... few things they let me ... keep from his ... his house. "

Mike swallowed hard, his annoyance at Connie now reaching fever pitch as he watched an errant tear fall down Steve's cheek, the drugs in his system not allowing him to hide his upset as well as he usually did. Not sure what to say in this instance to make the young man feel better, Mike reached up and squeezed the back of Steve's neck instead in a supportive gesture as Steve cleared his throat and then scanned the floor again.

"God knows where the rest of it is or ... how many pieces it's in."

Mike scanned the floor too, desperately hoping to find it for him and pushing some other broken things aside he found the top half of a figure. Watching Steve closely, he lifted it up to show him.

"Steve? Is this the other half?"

Steve stared at the piece in Mike's hand and nodded dolefully.

"Yeah ... yeah that's it ..."

"Well it's not too bad ... It's just in half. There doesn't seem to be any other pieces broken off it. I can fix this for you."

"You can't fix it Mike ... It's destroyed ..."

"Are you kidding me? Here give me that ... I'll have you know you're looking at someone who is a dab hand with super glue. I once fixed an ornament for Jeannie. It was one her Mother gave her and one day not long after Helen died, she was dusting it and dropped it. She cried a river let me tell you but ... I glued it and you wouldn't even see the crack. It's still at home on my sideboard as good as ever. I used to make models when I was a kid, you know? No, no I can fix this no problem. Don't worry. You won't even know it was ever broken ... I can fix most of this stuff ..." Mike continued as cheerfully as he could manage under the circumstances, scanning the floor and the various broken ornaments at his feet until he glanced down and saw one in about ten different pieces and he sighed.

"Well except maybe that one ... I hope that one wasn't important to you ... Was it?"

Steve peered over at the one Mike was referring to and smiled slightly.

"No ... No that was just a cheap trinket I picked up at Lake Tahoe one time."

"Oh ... Good well ... You can always pick up another one of those the next time you're up there, huh?"

"Yeah ... You think you can really fix Harry's one?"

"Absolutely ... Just leave it to me ..."

"Thanks Mike ..." Steve responded emotionally as he righted himself again on the couch carefully and sighed heavily.

"Look at the state of this place ... Why Mike? I mean what was the point of destroying everything like this? I don't get it Mike ... I just don't get it ... She never acted like that before."

Sensing Steve was maybe ready to talk more, now that the drugs were dulling his usual defenses, Mike asked cautiously.

"She had a temper though ... Hadn't she?"

"No ... No not really. She was passionate about stuff, that's all. Maybe a little fiery sometimes about things she really believed in but ... that's what made her stand out from the rest. It's what I loved about her Mike ... She was intense, passionate but ... never destructive. Not like this ..."

"Well in fairness Steve, you hadn't really known her too long. What was it? Three months now?"

"Yeah about that but ... we got on great Mike ... We had good times ... I mean I thought we were really going somewhere, you know? I ... I just don't understand it ... How could I have read her so wrong Mike?"

"Well love is blind Buddy boy. Maybe you saw what you wanted to see ... Or what SHE wanted you to see?"

Steve whipped his head around at that statement and stared at Mike.

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"People don't just change like that overnight Steve ... Maybe she just hadn't shown you that side of her yet. "

Steve seemed to contemplate that statement for several seconds before finally shaking his head determinedly.

"No ... No, I would have noticed. I'm a cop Mike. I'm trained to notice things like that ... You've taught me those skills. I would have known. She was special Mike. When we made love she ... she made me FEEL special ... "

Mike felt slightly uneasy. Steve never talked about THAT side of his relationships with him EVER but the drugs were definitely loosening his tongue more than usual. He didn't want to depress the young man more than he obviously already was but at the same time something inside him needed to make his young partner see sense and at the very least show him that on this occasion he WASN'T to blame for what had happened but that sometimes love and poor judgement went hand in hand.

"Steve? Sometimes when we love someone we don't see things that well ... that other people can more clearly see ... We see what we want to in order to keep loving that person and to keep them loving us. Do you know what I mean?"

Steve looked sadly in his direction.

"Are you saying I was that desperate for REAL love that I imagined it in Connie?"

"Well I wouldn't have quite put it that bluntly Buddy boy but ... maybe ..."

Steve let out a long weary sigh and then shook his head as he brushed his right hand through his hair absentmindedly.

"I just don't know Mike ... Maybe you're right but ... even if you are ... that doesn't make it hurt any less ..."

Again Mike reached out and squeezed the back of Steve's neck as the two men looked solemnly around at the destruction of the young man's living room.

"I know Buddy boy ... I know ..."

Reaching down once more slowly Steve picked something else up and Mike heard a shatter of glass as Steve righted himself again and shook the photo frame in his hand and the front glass fell from it in a million pieces onto the floor. Mike recognized it as the picture of his parents that he kept on the table by the fireplace and his heart ached again for the tortured young man sitting by his side.

"We'll get you a new piece of glass for that." he offered desperately and watched as Steve nodded gratefully but still stared at it sadly.

Before he could offer any more words of comfort the phone rang out in the hall loudly and Steve visibly jumped from the sudden, unexpected sound. It was so unlike Steve to startle so easily at anything and Mike feared that the earlier incident had had a more profound effect on his young partner than he had previously thought. He was way jumpier than he should be. Reaching out a hand to steady Steve he felt a palpable tremor coursing through the young man's body and it was enough to cause him to worry even more.

"Relax Steve ... I'll get it ..."

As he started to rise Steve grabbed his arm unexpectedly.

"NO! ... No, let it ring out will ya? It's ok ... Just let it ring out and then take the phone off the hook, ok? I mean who's gonna call at this hour of the morning anyway?"

Mike looked down at Steve unnervingly as the persistent caller's brash ring continued to resound through the hall.

"Steve? ... Are you worried that's it's Connie?"

Steve shook his head in denial but Mike could see the unspoken truth in the young man's eyes.

"No, no of course not ... I just don't want to take any calls right now, that's all ..."

"It's ok Steve ... I'll handle WHOEVER it is, alright?"

He emphasized the "whoever" on purpose and Steve reluctantly let Mike's arm go and watched as he disappeared out into the hall and he heard him pick up the ringing phone. Steve felt his heart start to race in his chest as he listened to work out from Mike's voice who was on the other end of the line at this ungodly hour.


	4. Chapter 4

**Picking Up The Pieces**

Chapter 4

Steve felt lightheaded as he tried in vain to make out Mike's whispered conversation. He waited impatiently, tapping the fingers of his right hand nervously against the arm of the couch as he awaited Mike's return. He heard the phone being hung up and looked up anxiously as Mike entered the room again.

"Well? Who ... was it?"

Mike smiled across at Steve sensing his anxiety and wanting to put the young man's mind at ease quickly.

"It was Anderson upstairs. Apparently Mrs. Peterson rang him earlier at work. She must have heard the commotion and she was worried about you. He just got home a while ago and saw the light still on in here. He wanted to know if you were ok."

Steve visibly relaxed momentarily but remained anxious all the same.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were ok. That there had been a minor disturbance but that everything was fine now. He asked if Connie was involved in whatever happened ... The funny part was that he didn't seem too surprised when I said that she HAD been but that she was gone now ... I got the distinct impression he wasn't too keen on her either."

Steve looked away embarrassed.

"No ... No, he wasn't ... You weren't the only one who tried to warn me off her ... I guess Connie proved you both right in the end, huh?"

"Steve look it's almost three in the morning. Why don't we get you back to bed. You should try and sleep for a while. I won't make any more noise and tomorrow we'll clean up this place together and talk about what happens next, alright?"

"Mike, I TOLD you. I'm NOT pressing charges. I ... I can't Mike ..."

Steve's continuing defense of the woman who had broken his heart, his home and almost his head made Mike's temper fray, the early hours of the morning and tiredness probably not helping his usual ability to stay calm under most circumstances.

"STEVE? Why in God's name do you always have to be so stubborn? You don't owe her any loyalty Buddy boy. She DID this ... She doesn't deserve your sympathy right now ... She needs to be taught that she CAN'T do this sort of thing and just get away with it. You're a cop Buddy boy and you have to start THINKING like one again. She's broken the law Buddy boy and lots more besides. Why do you keep DEFENDING her?"

"I'm not defending her Mike ... I just ... I just don't want to pursue it, that's all ..."

"WHY NOT?"

"Because ... Because I DON'T, OK?"

"NO! ... No, it's NOT OK, Steve. "

Steve hadn't expected the sharp retort and so he stared at Mike incredulously. Mike for his part, saw his partner's shocked reaction and felt guilty for being so harsh. Getting down in front of him again at his own level, he spoke a little more softly.

"Steve, listen to me, will you please? How many times have we attended domestic disputes and interviewed women on the job who've been assaulted by their partners or in some cases their husbands and we've tried to convince them to press charges, huh? How many times?"

"Aw Mike ... come ON ..."

"And how many times have we gone back later to find in some cases their dead bodies when it's too late? Huh? How many? Do you remember?"

"Mike you CAN'T compare this to those cases ..."

"Why NOT? Because you're a MAN, Is that it?"

"No ... No, that's not the reason ... It's just because ... They're not the same thing ..."

"Do you know how many husbands or boyfriends are assaulted by their respective partners on a daily basis in San Francisco alone, huh? Do you KNOW the statistics. DO you?"

"NO ... No I don't ... but I suppose you're going to TELL me .."

"No, actually I'm NOT ... Do you know why? Because no-one knows the statistics Buddy boy, that's why. Because men DON'T report it. Put it down to male pride or ... misplaced loyalty or simple denial that it's just not happening to them because well ... that just isn't possible ... But it is Steve ... It happens ... I KNOW ... I had a case oh ... about five years ago where it happened and he wouldn't report it either ..."

Steve hadn't expected that statement as he swallowed hard and asked tentatively.

"What ... happened to him?"

"I attended the scene three weeks later ... She'd ... killed him and then killed herself ... "

Steve hung his head at that horrific news and wasn't sure what to say next. Mike saw his shocked reaction and purposefully continued the story.

"That's right. A Homicide and a suicide and it all could have been prevented if he'd just listened to me.

"Mike, this ISN'T male pride ... I'm a COP ..."

"What? Do you think that makes you immune? Well? DO YOU? Because it doesn't ... The guy I spoke about ... He was a cop too and a damn fine one at that. We worked together for a while but his love for her was too strong for me to reason with ... I failed him THEN but I'm NOT going to fail you NOW! ..."

"Mike ... Look, I'm sorry about your friend .. Really I AM ... but you DON'T understand Mike ... This wasn't a break in ... It wasn't a case of someone stalking me or someone I put away coming back for revenge. She was my LOVER Mike. I LET her IN HERE!"

"So what? That means that you're to blame for all this. IS THAT IT?"

"NO! ... No I ... Maybe ... I don't know Mike ... I said something ... Maybe it WAS my fault ... I'm NOT sure Mike ... I JUST DON'T KNOW!"

"Steve, now you're even starting to sound like the victims we interview. LISTEN to yourself!"

Steve started breathing in gasping heaves as he struggled with how to explain how he was feeling about everything that had happened. He couldn't think straight. Everything was so messed up and the drugs now fogging up his brain and the dull ache in his skull and left hand were adding to his misery along with the building pain in his heart that he couldn't make go away ... He slumped back on the couch and tried to regulate his ragged breathing as Mike realized too late that he had pushed the young man too far in his current, fragile state.

Mike bent down and grabbed Steve's far shoulder and pulled him forward against his own as he spoke apologetically into his left ear.

"I'm sorry ... I'm sorry Buddy boy ... You're not up to this right now ... I should have known better ... Let's leave it for now, ok? Everything will be alright, you'll see ... Things will be a lot clearer tomorrow, I promise you but first you have to rest, alright? Come on, do as I tell you now, ok? Let's get you back to bed ..."

Steve merely nodded shakily and allowed Mike to gently lift him from the couch and support him back down the hall to his bedroom. He felt the soft mattress underneath him as Mike lowered him down carefully and he buried his weary head into the pillow as he felt the comforter once more getting pulled up around his shoulders. He felt the comforting and understanding squeeze at the back of his neck as he heard Mike whisper.

"Try to sleep Steve. I'll be just outside if you need me for anything, ok? I'm really sorry Buddy boy that all this has happened ... I mean that ... If it's any consolation, this is one time I ah ... well I really wish I'd been wrong. Sleep well ..."

Steve waited until he heard Mike's footsteps audibly cross the room behind him and heard the soft click as the door closed before he allowed the tears to finally fall silently and freely as they streamed down to stain his pillow.

Outside the closed door Mike heard the unmistakable soft sobs that emanated from the other side and fought the strong urge to rush back in and offer comfort and support. He had come to know Steve well over the last two years and the younger man always preferred to deal with upsets alone. He HAD to let him release his upset HIS way no matter how large a hole it burned in his gut to step back and let it be that way. Strengthening his resolve he bent down and picked up the dustpan and brush and began to quietly clear up the broken vase again, near enough to be of assistance if Steve called out but also near enough to unfortunately hear the heartbreaking, stifled sobs that tore at his heartstrings too.

When the pieces of the vase were all swept up, Mike listened as Steve's room fell silent. He stood up and very quietly opened the door and listened more closely as he heard the silent breathing that he hoped meant that Steve had fallen back asleep at last and finally settled. Pulling it closed again he thought about Connie and all the trouble and upset she had caused and his detective brain caused a chilling thought to appear. Picking up the phone from the Hall and pulling the cord until it stretched into the living room, he sat down on the arm of the couch and dialed a number, hoping that he was far enough away from Steve's room not to be heard in the unlikely event that Steve wasn't actually asleep but just pretending. He waited patiently as the phone rang several times and began to think that maybe due to the ungodly hour there was no-one there to answer it but just as he was giving up and was about to hang up, a male voice answered.

"Hello? Homicide."

"Sekulovich? Is that you?"

"Lieutenant Stone? What are you doing calling at this hour?"

"I need a favor Art ... A rather discreet one ..."

"Sure Mike ... What?"

"I need you to run a background check on someone for me. The name is Connie Moore ... That's M ... O ... O ... R ... E. She's a journalist. Check if she has a record will you and ... well it's just a hunch but check if she has any aliases too will you? "

"Moore? Mike? ... Isn't that Steve's girlfriend?"

"Yes, it is ... Look, something's happened Art and I need you to do this for me, ok? I can't say any more for now but just do the check for me as discreetly as you can, ok? She might use the same names mixed around ... I'm particularly interested in assault charges ... Keep this between us, ok Art? If you find anything you can contact me at Steve's place and neither of us will be in work tomorrow so if Olsen asks, tell him that we both have the day off, will you?"

"How far a field do you want this check, Mike? Just here in San Francisco?"

"No ... Check all states, will you? If I'm right and well I kind of hope I'm not to be honest I think this whole thing might be bigger than we think."

"Ok, Mike. I'll get right on it ... "

"Thanks Art ... I appreciate it ... Goodbye."

Mike hung up and stayed quietly holding the phone on his lap for a minute or two as he wondered if his hunch would prove right or not. Then standing up and placing the phone down on the couch he started cleaning up the broken pieces off the floor and deciding which of Steve's ornaments were salvageable and which ones were destined for the trash. After another hour, Mike sunk heavily onto the couch wearily, the all nighter starting to take its toll on the middle aged Lieutenant. He had made good progress on the clean up but he needed to take a breather, so he allowed himself a minute to lay his weary head against the back of the couch and before long he had drifted off into a light sleep.

A light knocking on the front door finally roused him and he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he glanced drowsily at his watch to see that it was nearly half past five in the morning. He got up gingerly trying to ignore the ache in his neck and back from his earlier, awkward sleeping position and crossed the hall to open the front door only to find Sekulovich standing on the top step.

"Art ... "

Glancing quickly up and down the deserted Street outside, Mike beckoned the uniformed officer inside.

"Come on in ..."

Art stepped over the threshold and held up a manila file and handed it to Mike as his Lieutenant watched him anxiously.

"That's the information you wanted Mike ... You were right ... It's all in the file ... Oh and I brought those other things you asked me for too ..." he added, holding up the brown paper grocery bag for Mike to take as he then caught sight of the unnerving bloodstain on the floor just behind where Mike was standing and gasped.

Mike noticed what he was staring at and took the bag from him before answering the nervous look.

"It's ok Art ... He's alright ... He won't be in work for a few days but ... he'll be ok ..."

"Is this to do with what's in that file?"

"Yes, I'd imagine so ... But it stays between us for now Art ... You got that?"

"Sure ... Ok, well ... I'll see ya Mike ... I ah ... hope the boy is ok."

"Thanks Art ... I knew I could count on you ... Take care."

Mike sighed heavily as he watched his colleague depart and then he closed the door and headed down the hall. Placing the items Art had brought down on the hall table, he quickly checked in on Steve and after making sure that the young man was still ok, he then exited the bedroom as quietly as he had entered and lifting up the paper bag, he picked his way across the kitchen floor carefully again before placing it down on the small kitchen table as he set about unpacking the items that were inside. He made a fresh batch of coffee and then taking his mug, he retired back to the couch in the living room, picking up the manila file as he went, and as he sat down he opened the file on his lap and reaching for his reading glasses from his inside shirt pocket, he placed them on and started to read.

Half an hour of grim reading later, Mike closed the file, removed his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes. Sometimes he HATED being right and this was one of those times. He thought about what his next move should be and then he picked up the phone on the couch beside him and made four very purposeful and well placed phone calls. Then he decided to start cleaning up the kitchen while he waited for his plan to begin to work. He was making good progress on the kitchen clean up when a resounding knocking sound came from the front door. He glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall to see that it was now coming up to seven o'clock. Right on cue, he thought. He headed hurriedly for the bedroom and opening the door he listened for Steve's easy breathing and prayed that for the young man's own sake and for the sake of his plan, Steve would remain asleep while this next meeting took place.. He closed the door tight and then headed to open the door, brushing both hands through his hair and readying himself for what he now had to do. He opened the door with a quick motion as the young woman on the step turned and began her narrative.

"Look Steve ... I'm so glad you called ... I'm so sorry for ..."

Her words trailed off as she saw the stone faced Lieutenant in the doorway instead of Steve and her nervousness increased as she shuffled anxiously and spoke with a definite tremble in her voice.

"What's going on Mike? I got a message that Steve wanted to see me ..."

"Yes I know. I left that message as it happens ... Come on in Connie ... "


	5. Chapter 5

**Picking Up The Pieces**

Chapter 5

Connie hesitated nervously and so Mike reached out and grabbed her arm purposefully and shunted her inside, closing the door behind her and guiding her forcibly into the small living room and shutting the door behind them.

"Don't be shy ... I just want to talk to you, that's all ... "

Connie looked worried as she looked around at the partially cleaned living room and refused to meet Mike's steely glare.

"What's going on? ... Where's Steve? ..."

"What? Are you wondering if he's still alive? Are you worrying whether your actions last night killed him? Is THAT it?"

Connie gasped loudly.

"Oh God ... he's NOT ... Is he?"

Mike waited purposefully before answering, making the young woman sweat a little, although that part of his plan was more for his own satisfaction than for effect.

"No Connie ... He's not ... but he COULD have been ... You can't help yourself, can you? "

"What are you talking about? It was ... just a misunderstanding ... A lover's tiff, that's all. I ... I didn't mean to hurt him ... It just got out of hand ... And anyway this has NOTHING to do with YOU Mike ..."

"Oh yes it HAS Connie ... That's my partner we're talking about and I WON'T let you do to him what you've done before to all the others Connie ... Or should I call you ... Paula Moore ..."

As he spoke the name, Connie recoiled and she took a nervous step backwards.

"That's right ... Or is it Connie Masterson or ... Connie James? Which one IS your real name anyway? HUH? Do you get a kick out of ALL this or are you really just a troubled soul Connie ... which one is it?"

"I ... I don't know what you're talking about ... "

"No? Do you want me to refresh your memory. Well let me see now ... Paul Doyle. Now he was in Denver, I believe ... Three broken ribs and a nasty concussion ... and yet he was so taken with you, he refused to follow through on the assault charge. Then there was Marcus Cunningham, San Diego. Say was that while you worked on the Evening Tribune up there? Twenty stitches ..." Mike whistled loudly ... And still no conviction ... Well I have to hand to you ... You sure know how to charm them, don't you? What is it? A sob story ... A dark past that drives you to do it and makes them feel sorry for you ... Is that it or can't you help it? Tell me Connie ... WHICH IS IT?"

"I ... I don't have to tell you anything ... I ... I want to see Steve ... HE understands ... He loves me."

"Oh I don't think so ... Not this time ... You see you crossed an unspeakable line Connie. You hurt him, not just physically but emotionally. You've underestimated Steve. He's no Paul Doyle or Marcus Cunningham. Oh he loved you alright ... There's no denying that but NOT anymore. He doesn't even want to see you or talk to you EVER again. You destroyed all that last night and ... I'VE convinced him to press charges ... "

"No ... No, you're bluffing ...Steve wouldn't do that ... STEVE? "

"Oh he can't hear you ... He's at the Hospital. They're taking his statement as we speak."

"NO! ... I didn't mean to hurt him ... I never mean to hurt them ... I ... I just ... can't control it ..."

Connie sunk down onto the couch and began to sob, holding her head in her hands as she rocked nervously back and forth. Mike could spot a fake act a mile away but he knew this one was no act ... He got down on his haunches and spoke more compassionately.

"I know you can't ... I spoke to your doctor Connie ... In New York and your mother ..."

Connie's head whipped up and she gasped again, the tears now free flowing down her face.

"You ... did? "

"Yes ... They want you to go back East and get the help you need Connie ... They can help you ... I think it's for the best ... You can't run away from it anymore ... You're hurting too many people ... You're not a bad person Connie but you're sick and you need help ... Let them help you ... "

"What about Steve? ... The charges?"

"If you agree to go back East under supervision and get the help you need, then I think I can persuade him to drop the charges. But there are conditions Connie... If you break the terms and don't stay in the treatment program then we'll prosecute ... And you stay away from Steve ... You hear me? No further contact ... If you care about him at all Connie, you'll leave him alone. You've hurt him enough ... And then there's the matter of criminal damage. You caused a lot of damage to his apartment and his things ... You have to make that right."

Connie considered the alternative and couldn't face the thoughts of a jail cell ... She reached into her handbag and Mike tensed ... watching her extra closely just in case his gut instincts let him down for the first time ever but he relaxed again as he saw her take out a check book and pen and start to write a check in front of him. Tearing it out, she handed it up to Mike as she spoke solemnly.

"Ok ... I agree to your terms. This should cover the costs of the damage and I'll get help ... And I'll stay away from Steve ... I did care for him you know? I need you to know that ... I really never meant to hurt him ... What will you tell him about me?"

"I'll tell him you called and that you said you were sorry and that it's best if you go back East and that the two of you part company. I'll let him down gently, don't worry. I think he's been hurt enough already, don't you?"

Connie just nodded sadly and looked around the living room dolefully, regretting how her lack of control had now cost her another good man as she remembered the good memories they had made here before she destroyed everything with her uncontrollable temper. She took a deep steadying breath and stood up."

"What happens now?"

"There are two Police Officers outside. They'll escort you to your waterfront house and let you pack your things and sort out your affairs and then they'll accompany you to the airport where you're going to board a flight to New York where your Mother and Doctor will be waiting for you at the other end."

Connie nodded and hung her head, seemingly accepting of her fate . She saw the two Officers mount the steps to Steve's apartment and sighed heavily.

"Time to go Connie ... This is the best thing for everyone ... You know that, don't you?"

Connie nodded and exited out into the hall, as Mike opened the front door and the first Officer stepped forward and took her by the arm. As she went to go, Connie turned around and addressed Mike one final time.

"Steve? ... Is he ok?"

"He will be ..."

"How did you know about ... the others?"

"Just a hunch ... I get a lot of those ..."

Connie smiled and then replied unexpectedly.

"Steve's a lucky man to have you in his corner Mike. I hope he knows that?"

"Oh I think he does ..."

With that Connie turned and left, escorted by the two Officers as he watched them descend the steps and drive away. Mike sighed heavily with relief that everything had gone as he had hoped it would. He reached around under the back of his pullover and pulled out his 38" special from the concealed holster and clicked the safety catch back on it. Things could have taken a nastier turn and he had been prepared for that eventuality, making sure back up was just a few steps away in case Connie had managed to get the drop on him somehow and left Steve alone in the bedroom, at her mercy. Thankfully his initial instincts had proved right and she had gone quietly and easily and Steve had remained at rest and unaware of the whole fiasco ... He walked slowly to the kitchen and started the next clean up. He still had lots to do.

It was a quarter past nine when Mike heard the bedroom door open and peered sideways to see the disheveled and pale figure of his partner emerge from the darkened room out into the bright hallway. He wobbled a little and audibly cleared his throat, allowing himself a moment or two to acclimatize to the light and his now upright position as Mike watched him lean slightly against the door frame for support and run a tired hand through his hair as he finally glanced up and saw Mike's face studying him closely.

"Hey ... Good morning Mike ..."

"Good Lord, the dead arose and appeared to many ... " Mike exclaimed playfully as he saw the sorry state Steve was currently in, his forehead an even darker shade of purple than the previous night and his normally well coiffured hair sticking up in two different directions.

The unusual remark was lost on the young man as his brow furrowed and he croaked uneasily.

"What?"

"Oh ... Sorry, it's just an expression ... You look awful ... Come and sit down will you before you fall down."

Mike went out to meet him and supported Steve's elbow as the young man stumbled somewhat clumsily forward into the kitchen. He hesitated as he entered and saw that the mess had been mostly cleaned up.

"You tidied up ... "

"Well it had to be done and I figured it would be easier on you this morning not having to look at it the way it was. It's not ALL done mind you. There's still a bit to do and lots of things still to be replaced but we'll get there, huh?"

"Yeah ... Thanks Mike ..."

Mike held out the kitchen chair for him to sit down on and again he stopped briefly.

"Did you fix the chair too? The leg was missing ..."

Mike smiled wider.

"Oh that was easy enough to fix ... I found some tools in your hall cupboard ... "

Steve stared incredulously at his older partner as he felt he couldn't stand much longer and he sat down gratefully in the chair that now felt even sturdier than it had been before, thanks to Mike's recent repair.

"You're something else Michael, you know that? ... Listen , I ah ... really appreciate all you did last night ... I'm not sure where I'd be this morning without you ... "

Mike brushed off the gratitude with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, don't mention it ... That's what friends are for, right? Now ... How do you feel about some eggs? Can I tempt you to some?"

"Where did you get the eggs from? I hadn't had time to get shopping in the last few days."

Mike tapped the side of his nose playfully.

"I have my sources ... So? Will you have some?"

"Maybe later Mike ... Is that coffee I smell though? ... I'd love a cup of coffee, please?"

"Sure, one cup of coffee coming up .."

Mike watched as Steve held his sore head with his good hand and winced as he poured the coffee and headed across to hand it to him.

"Is your head very sore this morning?"

"Yeah ... I think the pain meds have worn off ... Feels like I've got a guy with a bass drum in my skull and he's practicing like crazy."

Mike laughed at the analogy and reaching behind him he fetched two small blue pills and a pink one and placed them on the table in front of Steve alongside a mug of water.

"Here, take those ... They should help, ok?"

Steve eyed up the pills nervously and Mike laughed again.

"Don't worry ... They're not as strong as the injection Bob gave you last night ... And the extra one is an antibiotic ... Just in case. "

Steve nodded, feeling a little more at ease as he placed them in his mouth and swallowed them down with the water.

"Sorry about the mug ... You don't seem to have any glasses left ..."

Steve looked downhearted at that statement and saw the neatly swept up pile of broken tableware and glass in the corner of the kitchen. He took a refreshing mouthful of the coffee and from its warmth and comfort he spoke across to Mike who resumed the cooking of the eggs at the stove.

"Mike? ..."

"Yeah? ... " Mike answered still engrossed in the task at hand.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night and ah ... I think I've made a decision."

"OH? ... What's that Buddy boy?" Mike asked with added interest as he pulled the pan off the heat and feeling that Steve needed the extra attention, he headed across and sat down opposite him as he waited for him to continue.

"Yeah ... I'll ah ... I'll press charges ... If you still think I should?"

Mike felt an overwhelming sense of pride fill his heart at Steve's selfless statement and he smiled wide as he reached across the table and patted Steve's arm proudly.

"I'm proud of you for that Buddy boy ... I really am ... But as it happens, you won't have to."

Steve hadn't expected that reply and he looked up confused as he took another slow sip from his coffee mug.

"What? But you said last night ..."

"I know ... But things have changed since then ... You see ah ... Connie came to see you earlier this morning ... while you were asleep ..."

Mike watched with alarm as the colour drained momentarily from Steve's face as he dropped the coffee cup back down onto the table a little faster than he meant to and the coffee splashed out and made a bit of a mess. Steve hadn't seemed to even notice and Mike said nothing as he watched Steve process the news.

"She did? What? She CAME here ... In person? ... To the apartment?"

Mike disliked the uneasy tone he used and so kept his replies short and sweet as he judged Steve's reactions carefully.

"That's right Buddy boy."

"Well ... what did she want? What ... did she say?"

"She said she was sorry. That she hadn't meant to hurt you. She said that what happened wasn't your fault and she also said that she's decided to head back East. It's where her family are and that she felt it was best if you two ... well ... went your separate ways. Oh ... and she gave me this to give you."

Mike reached into his inside shirt pocket and handed the folded piece of paper over to Steve. The young man stared at it at first before reaching for it anxiously and then he opened it and read the amount on the check and stared back up at Mike incredulously.

"It's to cover the damage she caused Steve ... "

"I see ... So that's it, huh? ... A check, an apology and a goodbye all rolled into one."

"Yes ... I'm sorry Buddy boy. But I think it's for the best ... Don't you?"

"Yeah ... Yeah I guess so ..."

Steve glanced up at Mike and saw the sympathy clearly in the older man's eyes but he also saw something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on but it was there none the less. There was more to this but Mike was holding out on him. Why?

"Mike? ... There's more to all this, isn't there?"

Mike hadn't expected that question. He felt he knew Steve pretty well by now but it startled him a bit to realize that Steve was able to read him every bit as much as the other way around. He flustered and stood up and headed back to the stove where he returned the pan to the heat and tried to distract Steve from his question.

"Are you sure I can't tempt you to some eggs? I make some pretty tasty scrambled eggs you know and you really should eat something with the medication. It's easier on the stomach."

"MIKE? ... I want the truth ... Please? I ... I NEED to hear the truth ..."

Mike stopped his purposeful stirring of the eggs and sighed heavily. He glanced sideways and saw Steve's earnest expression laced with a sadness that tore at his heartstrings again and he gently pulled the pan once more from the heat as he turned and leaned against the stove, his voice responding in an uncertain tone.

"I'm not sure if you're up to hearing the whole truth yet Steve ..."

"That good huh? Well that doesn't matter ... I WANT to hear it ... All of it ... For better or worse ... Don't hold out on me Mike. Please? And especially not for some misguided attempt to save me from more misery because ... because something's missing here and it'll only bug me if you try to keep if from me."

"Ok ... Fair enough ... "

Steve watched nervously as Mike headed out into the hall and returned minutes later with the manila file from earlier.

"Before I give you this, I ... well I want you to know that it didn't give me any pleasure to read it or discover it ... But you're right ... You have a right it see it."

Steve took the outstretched file and took several seconds to summon up the courage to open it , knowing there was something terrible within its covers but also knowing that he needed to know about whatever horrors it held. He opened the file cautiously and read the first page and stared at the first photo in disbelief.

"Paula Moore ... She looks just like Connie ..." he spluttered momentarily before the awful and painful truth dawned on him. "Oh my God ... It IS her, isn't it?"

"Yes ... And the next two are as well ... "

Steve rifled through the rest of the pages and speed read the words therein. He read the initial assault charges and the medical reports with added horror and then the pages where the charges had been dropped and how the accused had been acquitted not once but twice. He read her psychiatric report and Mike noticed that his breathing labored as he did. When he reached the end of the last page, he swallowed hard and closed the file slowly over.

Mike moved closer to his partner as he worried about what Steve's reaction to what he had just read would be.

"I'm sorry Buddy boy ... I know that must have been hard to read ... "

"I ah ... just hadn't expected that ... So she's sick! ... You said she was going back East ... Is she going back to the Hospital?"

"Yes ... It's for the best Steve. She needs help. They can give it to her."

"Yeah ... So I was number four, huh? And I was going to let her get away with it just like all the rest? Man ... She sure played me for a fool, didn't she? ... "

Steve scoffed self derisively and hung his head shamefully and it killed Mike inside to see it.

"Now wait a minute Buddy boy. You were ready to press charges a few minutes ago, don't you remember? You're nothing like those guys. They chickened out and dropped their charges ... I know for a fact that you WOULDN'T have, so don't go selling yourself short."

"How? How do you know I wouldn't have, Mike? I mean she had me right where she wanted me. Right at the end of her hook. I loved her Mike. Maybe I would have chickened out too."

"No ... I don't believe that. You're smart and you have integrity Steve and that's a rare commodity these days, let me tell you. The cop side of you wouldn't have let you drop those charges and you know it. I also know how much it took for you to make that decision in the first place because you don't take decisions like that lightly Buddy boy. You have this innate quality that means you don't bring hurt or trouble unnecessarily to other people ... mainly because you've seen too much of it yourself from an early age. You know what it feels like and it doesn't sit right with you to cause hurt to others as a result even if they've hurt you badly in return. That makes you a very loyal and decent person Steve but you would have done the right thing either way. I'm sure of THAT, even if you aren't right now."

Steve stared at Mike and felt a lump appear in his throat as Mike read him like an open book.

"Well ... I guess we'll never know now anyway, huh? I hope they help her Mike ... I really do."

Mike placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed affectionately.

"Are you sorry it turned out this way?"

Steve took a deep breath and then feeling a little stronger somehow, he shook his head gingerly.

"No ... No, like you said ... It's for the best ... I ... I couldn't have looked at her the same way again anyway. Not after last night ... She crossed a line Mike. It wouldn't have ever been the same but Mike? Can I ask you one final thing?"

"Sure Steve ... What?"

"When she said that she was sorry ... Do you think she meant it? I mean did she care about me at all?"

Mike could hear in Steve's tone how much that answer meant to the young man and so he spoke truthfully.

"Yes Steve ... I do believe she cared a lot about you and yes, she sounded genuinely sorry Buddy boy. I just think she couldn't help what she did ... Maybe if things had been different, who knows what would have come of it? "

Steve nodded wistfully.

"Yeah ... Yeah I guess ... Thanks Mike."

Mike decided they had spoken enough about the whole sorry affair for now and remembering his other repair from earlier he spoke more cheerfully.

"You know I almost forgot ... I have something else for you ..."

"Oh yeah ... What's that?"

"Well close your eyes for heaven's sake... It's a SURPRISE! ..." he added playfully as Steve forced a smile and closed his eyes as requested.

"Now hold out your hands ..."

"MIKE? ... "

"Come on, come on. Just do it will you?"

"Alright ... I am. Ok?" Steve stated as he held out his hands and felt something cold and ceramic being placed in them. He felt it first blindly and felt the lump in his throat grow as he did. He stammered awkwardly.

"Can I ... open ... them now? "

"Go ahead ..."

Steve opened his eyes and let his gaze drop to where Harry's figurine lay mended in his hands. He turned it over in his grasp carefully and tried to see the crack where it had been broken but he could barely see it ... He felt very emotional as he saw it restored to its earlier form after feeling it never would be alright again. He felt tears build and cleared his throat and blinked them away as he stammered gratefully.

"Thanks Mike ... It's perfect ... How? ... How in God's name did you get it fixed so well?"

"I told you ... I'm a dab hand at gluing things back together Buddy boy."

"Yeah, yeah ... You are ... Even people ..." Steve added, smiling at his partner.

Mike laughed at that statement and ruffled Steve's already tousled hair.

"Let's have breakfast and after that I think we could both do with some more sleep. I've called us both in for the day off and so after I've eaten I'm going to grab some sleep on your couch because well ... I'm not getting any younger for these all nighters you know? And then later on why don't we order some pizza for dinner if you're feeling up to it by then? What do you say Buddy boy? You up for that?"

"Yeah ... Yeah Mike ... You know I think I am ..."

Mike grinned as he heard the healing tone and the smile that finally seemed to reach the young man's heart as he stood the figurine beside him and stared at it happily while he reached again for his coffee. It had been a strange and heart wrenching night all told and a life changing one at that but Mike suddenly felt that Steve had turned the corner and felt confident that Steve would pick himself up and move on despite everything that had happened. And Mike also knew that no matter what he'd be there to help him pick up the broken pieces.

 **The End**


End file.
